Wacky Wednesday
by Christine M. Greenleaf
Summary: Jervis Tetch gets his hands on alien technology which allows him to manipulate the fabric of reality on a subatomic level. An accident involving said technology has unintended, and potentially disastrous consequences when The Joker and Bruce Wayne find themselves trapped in each other's bodies...
1. Chapter 1

**Wacky Wednesday**

Bending the very fabric of space and time certainly wasn't for everyone, thought Jervis Tetch, as he manipulated some elements carefully under a microscope. There was a lot of time and effort and risk involved in such an undertaking, not to mention a great deal of work. But frankly, since the challenge had presented itself, he'd have been madder than a Hatter not to try it. Not everyone had the opportunity of doing such a thing, anyway, and Tetch felt it was an opportunity he simply couldn't pass up, whatever the cost.

Several weeks ago, Batman had brought him a piece of mind-control technology which he accused him of inventing. Tetch had rightfully denied the accusation, explaining to him rather patronizingly that the piece of technology wasn't even from planet earth, as anyone even remotely familiar with nanotechnology could plainly see – it was some sort of alien invention, using materials and matter from outer space that didn't even exist in the universe as Tetch knew it. Tetch had had no idea how Batman had got ahold of such a thing – most probably from that alien friend of his in Metropolis.

"They should really quarantine him for a bit upon his return from outer space," he muttered to himself, adjusting the microscope. "Just so he doesn't bring harmful substances into our planet."

Not that this piece of technology was harmful, not in Tetch's careful, capable hands anyway, he thought. Batman had raced off after Tetch had told him that the device was of alien origin, and the police in charge of returning Tetch to his cell at Arkham Asylum hadn't noticed him discreetly slipping it into his pocket. He had arranged a breakout from Arkham shortly afterward to study the object in the comfort of his own apartment, surrounded by his own materials which would ensure a safe, controlled working environment from which to engage in ground-breaking research involving the fabric of the universe.

A knock came on his door. "Come in," said Tetch, not looking up.

"Just brought you your tea, Jervis," said Jonathan Crane, his roommate, entering the lab with a cup and saucer. "If you're going to work through teatime, you should at least have something to drink, and a biscuit."

"How very kind – thank you, Jonathan," said Tetch, looking up and smiling at him. "That's so very thoughtful."

"How's the research going?" asked Crane.

"Splendidly, thank you," he said, glancing back down at the microscope. "It's utterly incredible to see how very flimsy that which we know as reality actually is. Forget mind control – this kind of technology opens up far more interesting possibilities than that."

"Such as?" asked Crane.

"More than we can even conceive of in science fiction," replied Tetch. "Alternate dimensions, time travel, even a world where everything is nonsense, and nothing would be as it is, because everything would be what it isn't."

"So a world where you're married to Alice, and I'm married to Harley, and we've both just received the Nobel Prize for Science," said Crane with a wry smile.

"You jest, but the possibility is there," replied Tetch. "This kind of technology can manipulate space and time, and make the fabric of reality as flexible as Alice's height in Wonderland."

"If you could but harness it," reminded Crane.

"Well, yes," agreed Tetch. "And that's going to take years of research to even begin to do that. But it's truly fascinating stuff on its own merit. I'm actually very grateful to Batman for bringing it to my attention, despite the rather unnecessary beating he gave me before he just asked for my help."

"He's a bully – what do you expect?" asked Crane. "The only language they know is brute force."

Tetch sighed, looking up from his microscope again. "The matter's in one of its unstable states right now, and I don't like to play with it in that form. The possibility of something going wrong is far too great."

"What could go wrong?" asked Crane.

"Again, more than we can even conceive of," repeated Tetch. "That's the fascinating and dangerous thing about the unknown – we can only find out through experimentation. But I'd rather experiment on it when it's in a rather safer state for now. I want to learn as much as I can about that before I move on to more risky activity."

"Just try not to create a wormhole in the apartment or something," said Crane, heading for the door. "I wouldn't have the faintest idea what to do with it."

"Call Batman," retorted Tetch. "I'm sure he thinks he can beat that into submission too."

Crane laughed and shut the door, leaving Tetch alone. He picked up his tea, dipping the biscuit into it and taking a bite. Then he went to go put some Gilbert and Sullivan onto the record player he kept in the corner – it often helped him with his work if he had something to listen to. Unfortunately, Tetch's tendency to air conduct Gilbert and Sullivan, an otherwise harmless eccentricity, had unintended consequences today.

He was filled with patriotic pride during the stirring "For He is an Englishman" finale of _HMS Pinafore_ and the emphatic waving of his hands made one of them collide with the cup of tea resting next to the microscope, flinging the contents onto the unstable matter on the slide.

"Oh, botheration!" exclaimed Tetch, as the matter sizzled, and then gave a pop which seemed to make the room vibrate for a moment. And then it was over.

"Jervis, are you all right?" asked Crane, opening the door again. "I heard a cry."

"…I'm fine, Jonathan," said Tetch, staring at the cell under the microscope. Aside from the strange popping sound, nothing seemed to have been affected – it all still looked the same on a molecular and atomic level. "Everything's fine."

Crane nodded, leaving and shutting the door again. Tetch let out a sigh of relief. "Well, thank goodness for that," he said. "The consequences of that could have been unimaginably disastrous in the wrong hands. Thank goodness I had everything under control."


	2. Chapter 2

The Joker woke up in bed next to a sleeping, naked blonde woman facing away from him. Which was unusual, he thought, in the vague state of alertness between sleeping and waking – normally the dumb blonde was practically suffocating him in his sleep, and would wake him with some awful and ultimately futile attempt to seduce him. He decided to beat her to the punch today.

"Just skip the pathetic display this morning and go make coffee, would ya, kid?" he muttered, yawning and draping an arm around her. "Daddy's not in the mood to make whoopie cushion."

The woman stirred. "Mmm, you didn't call yourself Daddy last night, but I like it," she purred, turning to face him. "And what about a whoopie cushion?"

Joker's eyes widened in shock as he realized that this particular naked blonde woman wasn't Harley Quinn. He sat up with a start.

"Jesus Christ…what happened last night?!" he exclaimed, trying to fathom some sort of explanation.

But he thought he remembered last night very clearly, and nothing out of the ordinary had occurred – he'd had a plan to blow up the orphanage, foiled by the Bat, they'd had a good punch up, he had escaped and rushed home to Harley, who had bandaged him up, and then they had gone to sleep, despite Harley's strong and not so subtle hints that she'd enjoy some playtime. Maybe he had sleepwalked into someone else's home? That didn't seem likely. Maybe Harley was playing a prank on him because of the lack of sex? That seemed even less likely. As his brain scrambled desperately for some explanation, the blonde woman smiled up at him, cuddling closer.

"Good morning to you too, big boy," she whispered.

"Well, I _am_ big," agreed Joker. "So at least that makes sense…where's Harley? She's gonna kill me for being in bed with a naked woman, even if this ain't what it looks like!"

"Who's Harley?" asked the blonde, yawning.

"You stupid or something?" demanded Joker. "Harley Quinn! My girlfriend!"

"I thought she was the Joker's girlfriend," said the girl, yawning again.

"You blind _and_ stupid?" snapped Joker. "Who do you think I am?!"

"Is this a trick question?" asked the blonde, looking confused. "Because the guy I went to bed with last night was handsome billionaire playboy and philanthropist Bruce Wayne. And what do you know, he's still here this morning," she added, grinning at him. "I hear that's a rare occurrence for a girl, so I'm flattered. But if you want me to make sure that's who you are, I can point out some very distinctive birthmarks I noticed last night…" she began, pulling back the covers.

Joker grabbed them away from her, pulling them up to his chest. "What the hell do you think you're do…" he began, but then he noticed his hands, and his chest. They were flesh-colored, instead of his usual unnatural white skin. And far, far more muscular than his ever were.

"Oh no," he murmured, realizing that something was deeply, deeply wrong. He lifted up the sheets, getting a glimpse of himself under the covers. "Oh no!" he exclaimed. "No, no, no, this isn't good! What's happened to my body?! My beautiful, beautiful body!"

"It sure is," began the blonde, cuddling against his chest, but he shoved her violently away and off the bed with a shriek. Then he stood up, storming over to a floor-length mirror in the corner of the room.

"Oh God!" he cried, clapping his hands to his face in horror. "I'm Bruce Wayne!"

The image that was reflected back at him in the mirror was indeed the handsome playboy billionaire. "How could this have happened?!" he cried. "Why me?! Of all the people to be stuck as, I'm this dumb, rich son of a…" began Joker, and then he paused as a slow smile formed on his face. "Very, very rich son of a gun," he murmured. "Well, I don't know what the hell is going on, but if the joke's on me, I'm gonna milk it for all it's worth! This has a lotta comedic potential! The rich know how to have fun, right?"

He chuckled, heading back toward the bed. The girl had picked herself up and opened her mouth to say something when Joker threw her clothes at her.

"Here, get dressed and get outta here, sweetheart – no joke in you," he retorted. "And call my butler on the way out, will you? I got some orders to give!"

"Are you gonna call me later?" she demanded, dressing.

"Nope," retorted Joker. "I don't remember the sex, but it probably wasn't that good, and frankly a handsome playboy billionaire such as myself can find a much, much hotter woman than you. I don't even know what I was thinking last night, settling like that. Must have had other things on my mind. Don't call me again!" he chuckled, shoving her out the door. He giggled to himself as he dressed in the brown suit thrown on the floor.

"Gotta do some shopping to improve old Brucie's style!" he laughed to himself. "He needs some more purple in his wardrobe!"

"You're in a merry mood this morning, Master Bruce," commented Alfred, entering the room with the breakfast tray. "Did Miss Barbeau's company prove diverting?"

"I'd give it a fifty-four," retorted Joker. "It's got a good beat and you can dance to it."

"Sir?" repeated Alfred, puzzled.

"Never mind," sighed Joker, rolling his eyes. "Can't expect a Brit to get an _American Bandstand_ reference, I guess."

"You're not usually in the habit of making references to obscure TV shows, Master Bruce," commented Alfred, setting down the breakfast tray.

"Well, I'm feeling like a new man today, Jeeves old boy!" chuckled Joker. "This Master Bruce is gonna be a lot more…what the hell is this crap?" he demanded, pointing at the cereal bowl on the breakfast tray which contained soggy, brown flakes.

"Bran flakes, sir," replied Alfred. "Your usual. Healthy for the heart and mind."

Joker picked up the bowl, examining its contents, and then flung them suddenly at Alfred. "Sir…" he stammered, stunned.

"Bring me two tall stacks of pancakes and waffles swimming in a lake of syrup!" snapped Joker. "I'm a billionaire, and I should eat like one! And bacon! Lots of bacon!"

"…right away, sir," stammered Alfred, heading back to the kitchen and wiping off his uniform.

"Morning, Alfred," said Dick Grayson, leaving his room. "What happened to you?"

"Master Bruce just threw his bran flakes at me," said Alfred. "He's acting very strangely, sir – did anything unusual happen last night?"

"No, same old, same old," said Dick, shrugging. "Diffused some bombs at the last minute, kicked Joker around some, and then home in time for Bruce's date. It was a pretty standard night, really."

"I don't know how to explain it then, sir," said Alfred. "But the master is simply not himself."

"Huh. Maybe things with Adrienne didn't go so well," said Dick, frowning. "I'll go talk to him."

He knocked on the door to Bruce's room. "Come in!" called the Joker, cheerfully.

Dick opened the door to see what he thought was Bruce going through his closet and throwing most of the clothes into a pile on the floor. "Boring, boring, nope, nope, no…well, I guess the Hawaiian shirt can stay…I went through a phase of wearing those a few years back…"

"Doing some spring cleaning, Bruce?" asked Dick.

"Yes, I am!" said Joker, happily "This whole wardrobe is a little too dark for my taste – we need some colors to make it more fun! Think I'll wear the Hawaiian shirt today, with some khaki shorts and sandals. What do you think, kid?" he asked, holding it up.

"I think that would be an odd choice to wear to the board meeting," replied Dick. "Not to mention your investment meeting with Luthor later."

"Lexy!" exclaimed Joker, beaming. "Oooh, I'm looking forward to that! Wonder if he'll let me rub his head for good luck!" he chuckled, going back to sorting through the clothes.

"You're looking forward to meeting with Luthor? You _are_ in a weird mood, huh?" asked Dick. "Everything ok?"

"I've never felt better in my life, kid," replied Joker.

"You do know who I am, right?" asked Dick, slowly. "Dick Grayson? Your ward?"

Joker laughed hysterically. "Your name's Dick?" he giggled. "Wait, wait, wait, lemme guess, the butler calls you…Master Dick!"

He burst into fits of laughter, and Dick just stared at him in astonishment. "Bruce…what's gotten into you?" he asked.

"Somebody a lot more fun, kid!" chuckled Joker.

"Do you remember…who you are?" asked Dick, slowly.

"Of course I do!" laughed Joker. "And if I didn't, I could just pick up a newspaper! I'm Bruce Wayne, celebrity billionaire and playboy philanthropist!"

"And that's it, huh?" asked Dick.

"Of course that's it!" retorted Joker. "Isn't that enough? Who else would I be?"

"Nobody," said Dick, hastily. "Well, I'll see you around, Bruce."

He left Bruce laughing to himself and headed for the kitchen to see Alfred, who was cooking pancakes. "You were right," said Dick. "He's definitely bought the funny farm. And he doesn't seem to remember that he's Batman."

"We must help him remember, sir, at once," said Alfred. "What will this city do without Batman?"

"I think it would be a bad idea to mention it to him," said Dick, slowly. "At least until we figure out what exactly is wrong with him. There's just something very familiar about the way he talks, and…the way he laughs. I mean, have you ever known Bruce to genuinely and hysterically laugh at anything?"

"No," agreed Alfred. "Never."

"There's something really funny going on," said Dick. "And not the good kinda funny."

"Did somebody say funny?" chuckled Joker, entering the room suddenly dressed in the Hawaiian shirt, khakis, and sandals.

"We were just talking about this comedy on TV, Bruce," invented Dick, quickly.

"Now there's an idea!" exclaimed Joker. "Jeeves, I'll be taking my breakfast in the lounge so I can watch some TV on my giant screen, y'know, that I can afford being a billionaire and all."

"Very good, sir," said Alfred. "But don't forget you have the board meeting at Wayne Enterprises in about an hour."

"Sure, sure," said Joker, waving his hand. "I'm already dressed, so just let me know when the car's ready."

"…you're wearing _that_ to the board meeting, sir?" asked Alfred, slowly.

"Got a problem with that?" demanded Joker. "I'm a billionaire, so I can wear what I like. Fashion follows me – I don't follow fashion!"

"…very good, sir," stammered Alfred.

"I'm heading to the Batcave to do some research," muttered Dick as Joker left, whistling. "See if any weird phenomenon occurred last night that could explain this."

"Good luck, Master Dick," said Alfred. "I have never meant that more sincerely."

Dick left, and Alfred piled up the breakfast and headed into the lounge. Joker was seated sprawled on the sofa and flipping through the thousands of channels.

"…Batman foiled Joker's plot to blow up the orphanage last night…" said the newsreader, and Joker paused at that, chuckling as they flashed pictures of himself onto the screen.

"Look at that handsome maniac!" he laughed, as Alfred placed the tray down in front of him. "Now there's a man with fashion sense, Jeeves! Also much more well-endowed than me, did you know that?"

"…no, sir," stammered Alfred. "I can't imagine how _you_ know that."

"Well, I'm jealous of a lotta things about him," said Joker, nodding. "But I guess everyone is, right? The guy's got it all – the royal flush! Looks, brains, sense of humor! At least, he used to have the looks," he muttered, frowning, as a horrible thought just entered his head. "But that must mean somebody else has got 'em now."

Then he shrugged, chuckling again. "What a great gag!" he laughed. "And the joke's gonna be on poor Harley! I can't wait to see how she reacts to this!"


	3. Chapter 3

Bruce Wayne awoke to feel his body in pain. That was odd, he thought, as his mind returned slowly to wakefulness. The Joker hadn't got many punches through last night that he could remember, certainly nothing to bother Batman's armor, anyway. But his body ached as if he had been beaten to within an inch of his life. He stirred, trying to flex his muscles, and that's when a familiar voice said, "Good morning, puddin'."

He froze. "Harley?" he said, his eyes snapping open to see Harley Quinn naked in bed next to him, cuddled close and holding a whoopie cushion.

"Thought you might be in the mood for some playtime, puddin'," she purred.

"Harley…" Bruce gasped, stunned, his mind racing for some kind of explanation. He would never have slept with Harley Quinn voluntarily, and she would never have slept with him – neither of them were that crazy. Harley was obsessively in love with the Joker. The idea that she would ever willingly sleep with someone else was utterly ridiculous. And the idea that he would sleep with his nemesis's girlfriend was also ridiculous. So what the hell was going on?

"Aw, c'mon, puddin', don't look so surprised," murmured Harley, kissing him. "You know your Harley's been eager for a nice, hard revving for weeks now. And I love you playing hard to get sometimes, but the joke's a little old now, huh? How about we just go for a ride?" she whispered, climbing on top of him and pinning him down.

Bruce reacted instantly, slamming his fist upward and hitting her in the face. "Oh…puddin'!" she gasped, her eyes shining. "You wanna play rough, huh, baby? So do I," she whispered, punching him across the face in return.

"Harley, stop it!" shouted Bruce. "I'm not having sex with you! Why would you even want sex with me?!"

"I always want sex with you, puddin'," she purred. "Always. Because you're just the sexiest, hottest, most gorgeous guy in the whole universe! Every gal in the world is jealous that they don't have a boyfriend as sexy as my puddin'! Now, c'mon, baby, I got the whoopie cushion. Why doesn't Daddy punish his bad girl?"

Bruce didn't see anything for it as she simply wouldn't get off him – he punched her hard again, and Harley groaned. "Oooh, that's it, Mr. J!" she gasped. "So good! Hit me harder!"

"Mr. J?" repeated Bruce, stunned. "Harley, I'm not Mr…"

But he suddenly noticed his hands as he struggled to fend her off, and saw that they were bone white. And then the horrible realization struck him.

"Oh my God," he whispered.

"See, puddin', I knew you'd enjoy it…" began Harley, but she shrieked as Bruce suddenly shot up, wrapping his arm around her neck and flipping her off the bed, slamming her down on the ground and restraining her arms behind her back.

"Jesus, puddin', you ain't usually this efficiently violent!" snapped Harley. "That was like a Bat move…"

Bruce ignored her, tying her arms behind her back with the bedsheet. Then he headed into the bathroom to stare at his reflection in the mirror and confirm his worst fears.

"Oh my God!" he cried. "How could this have happened?!"

"What, Mr. J?" asked Harley from the floor in the neighboring room. "What is it?"

"Harley, I'm not the Joker!" cried Bruce.

"Sure you are, puddin'," she said. "Who else would you be?"

"I'm…I'm Bruce Wayne," he stammered, turning to face her.

Harley stared at him. "Puddin', I didn't hit you that hard…" she began.

"No, look, Harley, I don't understand it either!" snapped Bruce. "But I just woke up and suddenly I'm in the Joker's body! I don't know why or how or what the hell is going on, but you have to believe me!"

"Puddin'…if this is a joke, it isn't funny," said Harley, slowly.

"It's not a joke, Harley," retorted Bruce.

Harley studied him carefully. "Where was our first kiss?" she asked.

"I don't know," retorted Bruce. "I told you, I'm not the Joker!"

"What's our safety word? Where did we have sex for the first time? What's our favorite sex toy? What do I want our kiddies' names to be?!" she asked, desperately.

"I don't know!" repeated Bruce, angrily. "And God, please don't ever tell me! And reconsider having children, for the sake of humanity!"

"Oh God, you've got amnesia…and you think you're Bruce Wayne!" cried Harley. "Oh, puddin', I dunno how this happened, but whatever's wrong your Harley girl will help fix you…"

"I've told you what's wrong!" snapped Bruce. "And unless you have some idea how this might have happened, I doubt there's anything you can do! I gotta get home," he said, storming toward the door.

"This is your home, puddin'!" exclaimed Harley. "And if you go out there in broad daylight, you're gonna get arrested for sure! Who knows, the Bat could break his nocturnal habits and be out there too!"

Bruce paused as a tremor of horror shot through his body. "Wait…if I'm in the Joker's body…that must mean…that he's in mine," he gasped. And that meant that the Joker could easily find out all about Batman, including his secret identity as Bruce Wayne.

But he couldn't very well just stride up to Wayne Manor in broad daylight looking like this – Harley was right. He'd get arrested without question. And neither Alfred nor Dick would probably believe him if the Joker showed up claiming to be Bruce Wayne trapped in his body. They would probably think it was some sort of sick joke. But Bruce wasn't laughing.

He sat down slowly on the bed. "I need to think," he muttered. "I need to think…there's gotta be someway outta this mess."

"Well, can you untie me while you do that?" asked Harley. "I don't mind being tied up usually, puddin', but you clearly ain't in the mood so I dunno what the point of me being tied up is."

"It's so you don't jump me," retorted Bruce.

"I won't," she said. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

He nodded and untied her. "Now go get dressed," he said. "Believe me, seeing you naked is an image I'll try to block from my mind forever."

"Why's that?" she demanded. "I'm an attractive gal! And you've seen it a lotta times before, Mr. J…"

"I'm not Mr. J!" shouted Bruce. "For the last time! I'm Bruce Wayne!"

"Ok, whatever makes you happy, puddin'," sighed Harley, heading over to her closet to get dressed. "Gee, I dunno if it's a joke I'm not getting, or an act to get outta sex, or if you really are sick somehow."

Bruce tried to ignore her, racking his brain to think of some way out of this. There was always a way out, but he didn't have any facts to work with. He didn't even know how this had happened. And he couldn't seek help or information from any of his usual sources as the Joker. He would have to adapt, and use the resources the Joker had at his disposal to get himself out of this mess.

"Who are the smartest people we know?" he asked Harley.

"Smartest?" she repeated. "Well, you, puddin', naturally."

"Aside from me," snapped Bruce.

She shrugged. "I guess that would be Johnny Crane or Jervis Tetch. Eddie Nygma thinks he's up there too, but he ain't really. Making up riddles ain't a sign of intelligence – it's a sign of OCD."

"We should go see them," said Bruce. "Right now."

"O…K," said Harley, slowly. "But maybe we should call first, huh? It's kinda rude to stop by unannounced…"

"Harley, this is an emergency," snapped Bruce. "Just take us to them immediately."

Harley shook her head. "Boy, you are in a mood this morning, ain't ya, Mr. J?" she sighed. "All bossy and cranky. Y'know, if we'd had sex, you'd probably be in a better mood."

"I definitely wouldn't," retorted Bruce. "So why don't you just drop it, Harley? Are you always this obsessed? Dumb question, I know, but he must be crazier than I thought to put up with it."

"Actually, he'd enjoy it if he'd just stop pretending he's Bruce Wayne," snapped Harley. "This is the worst thing you've ever done to get outta it, puddin', and I include that time you started a fire in the kitchen so the alarm would go off and nearly blew up the house! You could just honestly say you're not in the mood, and I'd wait until you were in the mood, as usual. But I don't know why you're making up this story about Bruce Wayne. You don't even like Bruce Wayne. You're always calling him a rich twit, and a waste of skin, and making plans to kill him, or kidnap him, or ransom him, and making jokes about how his parents were shot…"

"That's enough," snapped Bruce. "Let's just go see Crane and Tetch. And please try to be silent – it's really impossible to think when you're constantly talking."

Harley shook her head again. "You're some piece of work, you know that, Mr. J?" she demanded. "You can't even just tell me to shut my yammering mouth like you always do – you gotta pretend to be all polite because you're 'Bruce Wayne'," she said, making air quotations marks. "Just like you hit me earlier to subdue me, not to get me more in the mood. It ain't right, I tell ya! I hope you snap outta whatever this is soon, because I miss my regular Mr. J! He'd know how to refuse a girl properly, and how to insult her, and how to hit her! I'd like to see 'Bruce Wayne' do that!"

She stormed from the room and Bruce sighed, following her. He could only pray that this ordeal ended soon – he already knew much, much more about Joker and Harley than anyone could ever want to know.


	4. Chapter 4

"Mr. Wayne, welcome…" said Lucius Fox, whose warm expression dropped noticeably into shock as he saw what Bruce Wayne was wearing.

"How ya doing, pally?" chuckled Joker, clapping him on the back. "How's the family? All still alive and kicking, I hope? Most families in Gotham aren't so lucky, y'know, especially the Police Commissioner's, what with that handsome psychopath the Joker on the loose!"

"Um…yes…Mr. Wayne, are you feeling all right?" asked Lucius, slowly.

"Never felt better in my life, sport!" laughed Joker. "I'm feeling like a new man, with a lotta fresh, new ideas to pitch to the board! It's time we used my fortune to do some real good for this city, y'know, like Mom and Pop would've wanted."

"I'm sure your parents would be proud of the outstanding work you've already done, Mr. Wayne, in terms of rebuilding the poorer areas of Gotham, and your investment in projects for its future…" began Lucius.

"No, see, that's boring, small-thinking stuff!" interrupted Joker, waving his hand. "We're gonna think big from now on, pal! Real, real big! Supersize, like those fast food meals! Speaking of which, why doncha you go pick up some of those for me and rest of the board, huh?" he asked, reaching into his pocket and handing Lucius a wad of cash. "Think we could all use a happy meal, judging by those serious faces in there!" he giggled, entering the board room.

The board members murmured their greetings to Bruce, exchanging apprehensive looks with each other. "Did you just get back from a trip to the tropics, Mr. Wayne?" asked one.

"Nope, but I'm declaring it casual Friday!" chuckled Joker, leaning back in his chair and propping his legs up on the table. "Or, y'know, casual Wednesday. So what's new here?"

"Well, accounting has reported that profits have increased by 2.6 percent, adjusting for inflation, which resulted in a gross quarterly yield of…"

"Blah, blah, blah!" interrupted Joker, waving his hand. "I didn't come here to listen to a buncha boring numbers and figures! I came here to give some orders! This is my company, and I want us to start on a new project pronto!"

"Of course, Mr. Wayne, whatever you want," said one of the members, and the others murmured their agreement.

"Great! Then here's my vision," said Joker, leaning forward. "Giant, solid gold Joker statue," he said, spreading his hands at each word.

The board members were silent, staring at him in horror. "And when I say giant, I mean giant!" continued Joker. "I want it taller than the highest skyscraper in this town, towering over everything, something you can see from space!"

"Mr. Wayne…the Joker is a psychotic murderer who has caused widespread terror in this city for years," said one member, slowly. "Why would we want to build a statue to him?"

"Because think about what you just said – it's a great joke!" chuckled Joker. "And because the guy deserves some public recognition for all his hard work and effort over the years. You think all those crazy schemes and mass murder was easy? Fun yes, easy no."

"Sir, this is going to be a hugely unpopular idea," said another member.

"I don't have to be popular – I'm rich!" retorted Joker.

"You won't be rich for long if you go ahead with this," continued the board member. "Nobody is going to want to deal with a company that would build a monument to a known terrorist!"

"Hey, he ain't a terrorist!" snapped Joker. "Terrorists are no fun! He's a comical genius, with a wicked sense of humor that not everyone is smart enough to appreciate! But we at Wayne Enterprises have taste, and we ain't gonna let the opinions of a buncha boring sad sacks influence it!"

"We're going to go bankrupt," said the same member.

"Look, it's not gonna cost all my billions to build one statue," retorted Joker. "Even a solid gold one. And as for afterwards, don't worry! I'm gonna arrange a little surprise for the unveiling that'll make sure everything goes off with a bang!" he giggled. "So somebody get in touch with an architect, and we'd better start importing some melted gold, huh? Unless we got any in the vaults we can just melt ourselves – might as well save money where we can!" he chuckled.

"Mr. Wayne, I would have thought after your personal experience with the criminals of this city that you'd be the last person to do something like this," said one of the board members, quietly. "You of all people know what a huge problem crime is in Gotham, and we should be trying to lessen it, not celebrate it."

"Oh, lighten up, moron!" snapped Joker. "Crime is hilarious, especially the Joker's crimes! I'm sorry you can't see the funny side!"

"But sir, your parents…" reminded the board member.

"They died like what, thirty years ago?" demanded Joker. "Time to get over it and move on, huh? Geez, why would anybody spend their whole life brooding over something that happened ages ago! Even the worms who ate their corpses have forgotten about them by now! A family tragedy is like a bad breakup – have a few drinks and a little cry if you gotta, and then get yourself back out on the market and find a new family! But I certainly ain't gonna let something that happened that long ago control the rest of my life – what kinda pathetic person does that?"

"Sir, I've got the fast food, as requested," said Lucius, returning with a tray of brown paper sacks.

"Great, thanks – I'll take mine to go," said Joker, standing up and grabbing one. "I've got better things to do with my time than listen to a bunch of gloomy naysayers. Just get to work on the new project – I want it done as quickly as possible. I don't know how long I'll be here like this, and I wanna make sure I'll see the fruits of my labor before I go, including the unveiling surprise. Well, toodles!" he chuckled, heading for the door and munching on the burger.

The door closed, and the board just stared at each other in horrified silence. "What did I miss?" asked Lucius.


	5. Chapter 5

"All right, I'm coming!" shouted Jonathan Crane, in response to the incessant, loud knocking on the apartment door. He adjusted the towel around his waist as he stormed down the hall. "I hope it's urgent – you've just interrupted my shower…"

He trailed off as the door opened. "H…Harley," he stammered, mentally kicking himself for not getting dressed before he'd opened the door as his whole body suddenly flushed red.

"Morning, Johnny!" she said, beaming at him. "Sorry to take you away from your shower, but Mr. J is…"

"I'm not Mr. J, for the last time!" shouted Bruce, storming past Crane into the room. "Is Tetch here too?"

"Jervis is out shopping," retorted Crane. "Honestly, Joker, you could have called first if you wanted to see us…"

"That's what I said!" exclaimed Harley.

"I'm not the Joker!" snapped Bruce.

"Oh. Then who are you?" asked Crane, slowly.

"Mr. J woke up this morning and decided he was Bruce Wayne," said Harley, rolling her eyes.

"I _am_ Bruce Wayne!" he roared. "I know it sounds crazy, but it's true!"

"Oh. Well…you look very much like the Joker," stammered Crane.

"Yes, my consciousness has been transferred into his body somehow," snapped Bruce. "I was hoping either you or Tetch could explain how something like that could happen."

"To my knowledge, it can't," replied Crane. "But Jervis knows far more about those kinds of theoretical, metaphysical concepts. You're welcome to wait until he's back. Please do come in, Harley," he said, holding open the door for her.

"Thanks, Johnny – I wait to be invited into a house, unlike some people," she snapped, glaring at Bruce. "It's just polite. Just like calling ahead before you visit. 'Bruce Wayne' is a pretty rude guy, isn't he?"

Bruce ignored her, taking a seat in the living room. "You can go back to your shower, Johnny – you look like you haven't finished rinsing," commented Harley. "You still got shampoo in your hair," she said, ruffling his hair. "And soap suds here, and here, and here…" she said, casually pressing her fingers down his chest.

"Yes, I'll just go…wash it off," gasped Crane, shoving her hand away suddenly. "Excuse me."

He raced off into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him, and they heard the shower running a moment later, and then a shriek as Crane turned the water temperature to freezing cold. Shortly afterward, the door to the apartment opened, and Tetch entered, carrying several bags of groceries.

"Jonathan, I'm home!" he called. "Oh…Harley, Joker, what an unexpected surprise," he said, noticing them. "How are we this morning?"

"Mr. J ain't himself," retorted Harley, glaring at Bruce.

"That's right – I'm not," muttered Bruce. "I'm Bruce Wayne. Somehow I was put into Joker's body. And I'm looking for an explanation as to how that could have happened."

"Really?" said Tetch, half intrigued and half sympathetic. "That must be terribly trying for you, Mr. Wayne."

"You're saying you buy this?" demanded Harley.

"I don't dismiss any possibility out of hand, Harley, especially not those that seem nonsensical," replied Tetch. "I'll just put the frozens away before they melt, and then see what we can find out. I won't be a moment," he said, heading into the kitchen. "Would anybody like some tea?"

"No, thanks," said Harley. "But I'll give you a hand with the groceries."

By the time they had finished putting everything away, Crane had finished his shower, and he, Tetch, Harley, and Bruce all convened in Tetch's study. "What's that?" asked Bruce, noticing a very familiar item under Tetch's microscope.

"Ah, that is a fascinating little piece of alien technology I managed to purloin from right under Batman's nose," said Tetch, proudly. "It can bend the fabric of space and time. I've been experimenting with its capabilities for days now."

"Were you experimenting with its capabilities last night?" demanded Bruce, turning to glare at him.

"Yes," replied Tetch. "But I don't understand what that's got to do with…" He trailed off slowly, his eyes widening.

"Oh no," he murmured. "Oh dear, dear, dear! That popping noise, and the vibration and the…oh dear!" he cried, clapping a hand to his forehead. "I've unintentionally shifted the fabric of the universe!"

"Well really, who hasn't, at one time or another?" sighed Crane, sarcastically.

"My dear Mr. Wayne, I'm so very sorry for what, I have no doubt, has been a most excruciating ordeal for you," stammered Tetch. "Please believe it was never my intention to cause any harm of this sort…it was simply an accident! I was air conducting Gilbert and Sullivan, and my hand collided with my cup of tea, and it spilled onto the…"

"Wait, wait, wait, back up!" interrupted Harley, holding up her hand. "You're saying this ain't all an act? That that's really…Bruce Wayne…inside Mr. J's body?"

"I'm afraid so," said Tetch, nodding.

Harley stared at him. And then she completely freaked out. "Oh my God!" she shrieked, clapping a hand to her mouth. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! I tried to have sex with you! You've seen me naked! How dare you look at me when I'm naked?!" she screamed, slapping Bruce hard across the face. "I'm taken, pal, so don't go getting any ideas! One man loon, you got that?!"

"You showed me yourself naked!" retorted Bruce. "And you were very forceful in your advances, so don't blame me!"

"I thought you were my boyfriend!" screamed Harley. "How was I supposed to know that you just stole his body?! What have you done with my Mr. J, huh, Brucie?! Is he still in there?! Yoo hoo, puddin'!" she screamed in his ear. "Puddin', you gotta come back and take control!"

"Harley, he's not in there!" snapped Bruce, shoving her away. "He's very obviously in my body! Whatever Tetch did must have switched us!"

"Well, you'd better switch 'em back!" shrieked Harley, rounding on Tetch furiously. "I ain't gonna be just another one of Bruce Wayne's many floozies! I want my perfect Mr. J back in my perfect Mr. J's body!"

"Yes, yes, I'll get to work on it right away," stammered Tetch.

"How long do you think it will take for you to rectify this?" asked Bruce. "That maniac's in my body, and there's no telling what sort of damage he's doing to my personal and professional reputation!"

"I'll work as fast as I can," promised Tetch. "In the meantime, perhaps you'd better try to find a way to attract his attention. Set a trap for him. Harley must know of some way to lure the Joker. If we can keep him safely locked up until I've found a way to reverse the process, he can't do any more damage."

"Oh, there's only one thing that can attract Mr. J, and that's Batsy!" cried Harley. "And he ain't gonna be up for hours!"

Or ever again, thought Bruce, if Tetch didn't find a way to fix this. He racked his brain to think of a plan, and suddenly the answer came to him. "Lex Luthor," he murmured.

"What?" said Harley.

"I…Bruce Wayne has a meeting with Lex Luthor later today," said Bruce. "At Wayne Tower. I know that place inside and out – I can sneak in, catch Joker at the meeting with Luthor, and…well, it'll look like I'm kidnapping Bruce Wayne. Which is something the Joker would do, so that wouldn't seem out of character. I take him back here, and keep him locked up until Tetch finds a way to fix this."

"What if Batman comes to save Bruce Wayne?" asked Harley.

"I don't think he will," muttered Bruce. "But it's a risk we have to take."

"What if the Joker doesn't even go to this meeting with Luthor?" asked Crane. "He's not exactly a man who sticks to a schedule."

"Nah, Mr. J would never miss an opportunity to ridicule Lexy, especially if he could conceivably pose as Lexy's business associate," said Harley. "There's too much of a gag in that for Mr. J to pass up."

"That sounds like the most viable plan we've got," sighed Tetch. "Good luck to you, Mr. Wayne."

"Hey, I'm coming too," snapped Harley.

"No, you're not," retorted Bruce. "Two people going doubles our chances of getting caught."

"If you think I'm gonna let you try to capture Mr. J on your own, you got another think coming," said Harley. "A guy who's never fought a day in his life wouldn't be able to take on my puddin' in a million years. But I can."

"Harley, I'm sure he'll come willingly," said Bruce. "He'll probably want to be himself again just as much as I do. Once I explain what's happened and that we're going to fix it, I'm sure there'll be no need to subdue him."

Harley looked at him contemptuously. "You don't know my puddin' at all, do ya?" she snapped. "You think he's found himself in your body and just spent the day wallowing around in despair? Not my puddin'! He seizes the day! He makes the most outta every situation that comes his way! That's what I love about him! He's probably been setting up tons of gags and jokes and schemes, and he won't wanna come back to his body until he's finished having his fun in yours. So yeah, you're gonna have to subdue him. And you ain't Batman, so you're gonna have to take me along to do it!"

Bruce sighed heavily, but saw that it was useless to argue with her. She had that same resolute look in her eyes that she had had this morning in bed, and he had only stopped her then by physically subduing her. Which he supposed he could attempt now, but it was too dangerous with Crane and Tetch here – they were smart enough that they might recognize Batman's fighting style, and make the connection. So might Harley, if he kept using Batman moves.

"All right, you can come," he muttered.

"Good," said Harley. "We'll stop by the lair to pick up a few things – trapping Mr. J with his own toys is gonna be a joke he'll enjoy later," she said, heading for the door.

"Godspeed to you both!" called Tetch.

"And to you," retorted Bruce, turning to glare at him. "Start fixing this mess."

"Let me show you out," said Crane, following them to the door. "Good luck, my dear – I'm sure you'll do splendidly," he said, beaming at Harley. "And to you, Mr. Wayne," he muttered, his face falling instantly into a scowl of hatred.

Suddenly, Bruce tripped in the doorway, falling flat on his face with a hiss of pain. "That's for looking at Harley naked," he heard Crane mutter in his ear, and then the door slammed shut.

Bruce picked himself up, glaring at the door. The next time Batman faced the Scarecrow, he wasn't going easy on him.


	6. Chapter 6

The Joker sat in Bruce Wayne's private office, holding an air horn to the intercom on his desk and glancing at his watch. "Five minutes," he said, releasing the noisemaker at last. "And this concludes the test of our emergency systems. Back to work, wage slaves!" he chuckled. "Make me some more money!"

He leaned back, drumming his hands on the desk and whistling. Suddenly, the intercom buzzed. "What is it, Moneypenny?" he asked, answering it.

"Mr. Wayne, for the last time, that's not my name," snapped Bruce's secretary. "And there's a Miss Selina Kyle on the phone for you."

"Oooh, put her through!" chuckled Joker. "Hello, kitty pie!"

"Hi, Bruce," purred Selina. "I'm just sitting here in the tub wearing nothing but my diamonds and wishing you could join me."

"So you decided to call me at work for some dirty talk, huh, honey kitten?" chuckled Joker. "Something to make pussy purr? Well, I'm sure I can oblige!"

"Um…Bruce…you really don't sound like yourself," said Selina, slowly. "Are you feeling ok?"

"Never felt better in my life, pussy pooh!" chuckled Joker. "The only thing that would make me feel better is if I was there in the tub with you, taking your diamond necklace and pulling it tighter and tighter around your throat, until you were choking and suffocating, gasping desperately for air as your face turns purple and your tongue protrudes…"

"Bruce, what the hell is wrong with you?!" shouted Selina.

"What? You don't think that's hot?" snapped Joker. "Ok, how about this? Putting my hands around your neck and pressing you down slowly in the water until it swallows your lips, and then watching your eyes as panic enters them, and your mouth gapes open and shut like a fish as you struggle to breathe…"

"God, Bruce, what's gotten into you?!" shrieked Selina. "If this is a joke, it isn't funny – it's just sick! Just like you, you sick freak!"

She slammed down the phone, and Joker shrugged, hanging up. "Harley would have thought it was hot," he muttered, leaning back in his chair and spinning it around in a circle. He kept repeating this, going faster and faster, and shouting "Wheeeee!" until the intercom buzzed again.

"Mr. Wayne, Mr. Luthor is here," said the secretary.

"Ok, gimme a second while the dizziness goes away," said Joker, steadying himself. "Although I guess it would be pretty funny to throw up on Lexy…yeah, just send him in!" he chuckled.

The door opened and Lex Luthor strode in. "Mr. Wayne, such a pleasure to see you again…" he said, holding out his hand.

"Lexy, old kid!" exclaimed Joker, standing up and beaming. "How about a hug? It's better than a handshake!" he said, seizing him in his arms and embracing him. "Good to see ya, buddy – it's been too long!"

"Um…yes," said Luthor, who certainly wasn't a fan of hugs, or of being touched unnecessarily in any way. "Well…thank you, Mr. Wayne," he said, shoving Joker away firmly. "It's good to see you too. And I'm glad you're in such a good mood – hopefully this means you've decided to be amenable to my business deal."

"And what deal is that?" asked Joker.

Luthor stared at him incredulously. "The one I've been pushing for months!" he snapped, reaching into his briefcase and slamming a contract down on the desk. "A LexCorp-Wayne Enterprises joint venture for the development of nuclear weapons!"

"Oooh, nuclear!" chuckled Joker. "I'm in, as long as we can put those smiley faces on the sides of the bombs that say 'have a nice day.' Those are a laugh riot!"

"Mr. Wayne…are you actually saying that you agree to the terms of my deal?" asked Luthor, slowly. "Because that's not what you've been saying for months."

"Well, I woke up this morning seeing things clearly for the first time in my life, Lexy!" said Joker. "Or, y'know, seeing things through the lens of crazy, which is even better!" he laughed. "And you can't go wrong with more nuclear weapons! Might as well start investing in the future, for the kiddies, y'know!"

"This is certainly a change of tune for you, Mr. Wayne," said Luthor, slowly. "Last time we talked you were keen to invest your company's money in alternative energy sources, as well as redevelopment and welfare programs…"

"Ugh, is there anything more sickening than the earnestness of a buncha bleeding hearts?" sighed Joker. "No, no, no – I want to invest my money in fun stuff! Nuclear weapons! Bombs! Giant, solid gold Joker statues!"

"Joker statues?" repeated Luthor.

"Just a new little project I'm planning, Lexy," chuckled Joker, waving his hand. "Nothing for you to worry about."

"If you mean you're actually building a statue to that criminal lunatic, then it certainly is something for me to worry about," snapped Luthor. "It could harm my business interests if we're associated in any way! LexCorp does not support the erection of statues to terrorists…"

"Oh, you're a fine one to talk, with your little Injustice League!" snapped Joker. And then he giggled. "And you said erection!"

Luthor gaped at him. "I…don't know what you're talking about…what Injustice League?"

"Oh, Lexy," sighed Joker, shaking his head. "The cat's outta the bag! Your little secret society of supervillains that you divert millions of LexCorp's funds to, all in an effort to thwart the Justice League and take earth back for humanity, or so you believe."

"That's…that's not true, Mr. Wayne," stammered Luthor. "That's slanderous, that's libel, and I could sue you for…"

"Oh, everything's lawsuits with you business types!" chuckled Joker. "But you really don't want to sue me, Lexy. Just think about those Injustice League rumors getting out in court. Why, some plucky young investigative journalist might get a hold of something to prove they're true!" he chuckled. "No, you want my business, Lexy, and you'll have it, on one condition."

"And what's that?" demanded Luthor.

"I get to rub your head," said Joker, beaming.

Luthor just stared at him. "Mr. Wayne…are you high?" he asked.

"Yep, high on life!" chuckled Joker. "Don't need drugs to have fun, not like some of those other rich celebrity types! C'mon, I got a pen right here – I'll sign your little contract after a little rub!" he chuckled, holding up a pen.

Luthor glared at him. "Fine," he snapped. "But make it quick."

Joker giggled, reaching out a hand and petting Luthor's head. "Oooh, it's shiny and smooth – do you moisturize?" he asked.

"Just sign the damn paper!" snapped Luthor, shoving it forward.

Joker obeyed, and Luthor snatched it back. "Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Wayne – next time you schedule a meeting with me, don't take whatever drug you took this morning!"

"I told you, it's not a drug!" called Joker as Luthor stormed out. "High on life, Lexy! You should try it sometime!"

He giggled madly to himself as the door slammed shut. "Ah, wait until Lexy sees that I signed that contract as Bugs Bunny!" he sighed. "I almost wish I could see the look on his face, but he'll probably be halfway back to Metropolis before he notices!"

He buzzed the intercom on his desk. "Moneypenny, cancel all my meetings and hold all my calls – I'm heading home. I've been at work all of two hours, and that's enough for a billionaire. So have my limo pick me up ASAP."

"Right away, Mr. Wayne," said the secretary. "And please stop calling me Moneypenny."

"You got it, sweetheart," he said.

"Don't call me that either," she snapped. "Or I'll slap you with a sexual harassment lawsuit."

"Yeah? Bring it on, dollface!" snapped Joker. "I ain't scared of your lawsuits, toots! I'm a playboy billionaire, and I can treat women with as much disrespect as I like! That's part of the job of being a playboy billionaire! Jesus, some people try to suck all the fun outta being rich and powerful," he sighed, standing up and heading for the door. "They're just jealous, of course."


	7. Chapter 7

"Why do stealth missions always involve crawling through vents?" asked Harley, crawling behind Bruce as they made their way through the ventilation system of Wayne Enterprises. Bruce gritted his teeth and tried to ignore her babbling – she hadn't shut up since they had left the lair.

"And why does every building even have human-sized vents?" she continued. "I mean, air doesn't take up that much space. You could make 'em smaller and not run the risk of having people sneak through 'em. Safer, and probably more cost effective. But I guess a billionaire don't have to worry about things like that. Must be nice."

Bruce continued to ignore her. "It's really awkward having you in my puddin's body, y'know," she said. "I mean, normally I wouldn't complain about crawling along behind Mr. J and getting to stare at his ass, but it just feels wrong when I know that it temporarily belongs to someone else."

"For God's sake, Harley, just keep your eyes down!" snapped Bruce. "And please stop talking – these vents aren't sound-proof!"

"Y'know, for a playboy billionaire, you ain't very fun," replied Harley. "You remind me more of Batsy. He's a grump like you."

"You'd be grumpy too if you woke up in someone else's body," retorted Bruce.

"Not in puddin's body, I wouldn't!" giggled Harley. "I'd play with it all day long! You must be kinda annoyed that you gotta go back to your own, inferior body after finding out what it's like to have the body of a real man, huh, Brucie?"

"Yeah, I'll be real disappointed not to look like a notorious psychopath," muttered Bruce. "Not to mention a perpetual freak."

"Mr. J is not a freak!" snapped Harley. "He's a genius! You're just too dumb to see it, just like most of Gotham!"

"Yeah, that must be it," sighed Bruce. "Y'know, since he's such a genius, I'm sure he's spent the day in my body using my vast wealth to solve world hunger and cure cancer…"

"No joke in that, Brucie," interrupted Harley. "Mr. J doesn't use his genius on things that ain't funny. People didn't ask Einstein to go paint the Sistine Chapel, did they? Geniuses have gotta go with their specialty."

"And the Joker's specialty is what, causing chaos and hurting people?" demanded Bruce. "Because he's remarkably good at that."

"Gotta use the talents you're given, Bruce," replied Harley, shrugging. "Anyway, it's just a joke."

"Can you explain how it's funny?" asked Bruce.

"Nope," retorted Harley, shaking her head. "Mr. J told me never to explain jokes. You either get it or you don't. And a dumb celebrity like you can't possibly get it. Anyway, I don't see you using your vast wealth to solve world hunger or cure cancer."

"I don't claim to be a genius," retorted Bruce. "But I do the best I can to help the world in my own way…"

"Yeah, swanning around Europe and throwing fancy parties really helps people," interrupted Harley, rolling her eyes.

"They're charity balls!" snapped Bruce. "And I have to keep up some appearances!"

"Well, if you really wanted to make a difference, you wouldn't," retorted Harley. "You'd tell people you don't care what the world thinks – you ain't wasting your money no more on idle frivolities. You're devoting your life and your wealth entirely to supporting the less fortunate, rather than just giving token handouts to keep up appearances and make yourself look good. In a lotta ways, I think you're a worse crook than all of us in Arkham put together. At least we're honest. You steal from people and then pretend to give back in some elaborate charade. It's the biggest con game of all."

"Harley, you don't know anything about my life!" snapped Bruce, rounding on her. "Neither do the gossip rags! Believe me, I do a lot to try to help the people of this city! More than anyone knows!"

He started crawling again. "Anyway, the day I care what someone like you thinks about me is the day I lose my mind."

"Why? You think I'm an idiot?" she asked. "Think you can just dismiss my opinion as that of a dumb blonde? I used to be a doctor, y'know, Brucie. I ain't stupid."

"Yeah, you got your medical degree by being so smart," muttered Bruce under his breath.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded, bristling.

"Well, you know the rumor I heard," said Bruce. "And the rumor that everyone believes is that you slept with your teachers to get good grades. As someone who's now using her feminine wiles to attach herself to a powerful man, and who was stupid enough to fall for his games, it doesn't seem out of character…"

With a shriek, Harley leapt onto him, sending them both suddenly crashing out of the grate in the floor of the vent and onto the table in the boardroom of Wayne Enterprises. "It's a lie!" she screamed, furiously, beating him mercilessly. "A lie! Take it back, take it back, take it back! I won't hear lies like that outta Mr. J's beautiful mouth! I got my degree fair and square, and I've never slept with anyone else but Mr. J! That's disgusting propaganda set up by the Bat just to dismiss me as an unintelligent woman, because he can't accept that a smart girl could be a criminal! Well, I ain't the idiot here, Brucie – that's you, you selfish, stupid, spoiled rich boy! You ain't never had to work for anything a day in your life – had everything handed to you on a silver platter! I got a full scholarship to college by working my ass off, not by showing my ass off! That's also how I got my degree! And when you get your own pathetic little body back, I expect a full public apology and retraction of that disgusting rumor! I know you ain't ever heard of faithfulness, and you don't understand love, flitting from one floozy to the next, but that don't mean that everyone does that! Some of us have standards! And while normally beating the crap outta Mr. J would turn me on, I ain't turned on at all right now! I'm just a whole lotta pissed off!"

She punched him once more and then climbed off him. Bruce had been futilely trying to deflect her blows, since his attention was mostly focused on recognizing with growing horror where they had landed, and the shocked faces of everyone staring at them.

"We need to go…" he muttered, struggling to his feet, but suddenly Lucius pressed the button to call security and an alarm blared through the building.

Bruce swore, racing toward the door. "Don't you dare leave me behind!" shrieked Harley, running after him. "I ain't letting you outta my sight in Mr. J's body – I don't trust you with it!"

Bruce's heart fell as he saw security guards running toward them – nothing for it, he thought, taking a deep breath and rushing them.

Harley beat him to it, suddenly flying over his head and kicking one in the face. She grabbed the weapon from another, slamming the gun across his nose and breaking it. Another tried to punch her, but she grabbed his arm and flipped him over her shoulder.

"Office is this way!" shouted Bruce, racing down the corridor and throwing open the door to his office. It was empty.

He rounded on the secretary. "Where's Mr. Wayne?" he demanded.

"He just left to go home," replied the secretary. "Hope he's gone to find a good lawyer too, because he'll need it for the sexual harassment lawsuit I'm filing against him. Kinda wish he was here to be kidnapped – he deserves it after today."

Bruce let out a cry of rage, racing back down the corridor and down the stairs. "Where's Mr. J?" shrieked Harley, turning suddenly to race after him.

"Outside!" shouted Bruce, skidding to a halt as another group of security guards charged up the stairs toward them. Harley couldn't take them all. Nothing for it, he thought grimly. He was going to have to fight.

Suddenly, Harley slammed into him, knocking him sideways and through the glass wall out of the building. Bruce felt himself falling and glanced down at the several hundred feet below them, wondering why exactly Harley had chosen suicide over letting them be captured by security. He saw her throw something as the ground came up closer and closer, and Bruce braced for impact.

But instead of colliding with the street, his body hit something soft and rubbery and bounced gently to a stop. He opened his eyes to see that they had landed on a giant, inflatable whoopie cushion that Harley had brought from the lair.

"C'mon!" she shrieked, not even taking a moment to recover but grabbing Bruce and dragging him toward the front of the building. "I see you!"

Bruce saw it too – himself climbing into his limo. It was a very surreal experience. "Puddin'!" screamed Harley. "Puddin', wait!"

"Harley?" said Joker, looking up and beaming. "Hi, pumpkin pie! Boy, it's been a weird day, huh?" he chuckled.

"Yeah, and you gotta come home and stop it!" shrieked Harley. "I can't deal with Brucie anymore! He's awful! Worse than the Bat!"

"Aw, Daddy would love to come home, pooh, but he's got some stuff to do before then," said Joker, patting her head. "So just do your best to put up with him for a little longer, for my sake. It'll be worth it for the gag, trust me!"

"But puddin'…" began Harley.

"Gotta go now, sweets – see you soon!" he chuckled, slamming the car door shut. "Bye, Brucie!" he called, waving at Bruce. "Gotta say, it's a blast being you!" he giggled, lighting up a cigar.

"Don't you dare smoke in my body!" shouted Bruce, but Joker had already told Alfred to drive, and with a smile and a wave and a puff of smoke, Joker was gone.

Harley glared after him. "No!" she screamed. "No, I ain't gonna play along anymore! I don't care what kinda gag he's got planned – it ain't worth the crap I've gone through today! We gotta get to your house, Bruce!"

"We can't possibly get to Wayne Manor without getting arrested!" snapped Bruce. "Especially since the police have probably been called on us…"

"God, you are so defeatist!" snapped Harley. "You think I don't have any experience blasting cops?!" she demanded, pulling out her gun.

"I'm not letting you kill any of them!" snapped Bruce.

Harley made a face. "Aw, take all the fun outta life!" she muttered, glancing down at the road. Then she ripped the manhole cover off the sewer drain.

"C'mon," she growled. "Before they see us."

Bruce sighed heavily, but saw no alternative that didn't result in the potential harm of innocents. He followed her down into the sewer, replacing the manhole cover. "Sewers run everywhere," said Harley, flicking out a flashlight. "We just have to figure out which one of these leads us to Wayne Manor. Could take a while. Better hope Mr. J decides not to go out later, and just confines his damage to your home. There should be plenty of things to distract him in the home of a billionaire."

Bruce followed her down the tunnels, fervently hoping that one of those things was not the Batcave.


	8. Chapter 8

"Do we have any more cars?" asked Joker, striding into Wayne Manor soaking wet.

"More cars, sir?" repeated Alfred, puzzled. "You have several in the garage, but I thought the one we had out was in perfect working order…"

"Yeah, it was," said Joker, nodding. "But not anymore. Can you bring the other cars round the back to the pool? I'm trying to do that stunt driver thing of jumping the car over the water, and my first attempt crashed the car into the pool. So I need some more to keep trying."

Alfred stared at him. "Sir…why on earth would you do such a ridiculous thing?"

"It's fun," said Joker, shrugging. "And you never know when you might need that skill. Always better to be prepared for stuff, am I right? I'll try to do it before I crash them all, though, don't you worry, Jeeves!" he chuckled, patting him on the back. "Gotta keep you busy with plenty of cars to wax and polish in your spare time, or what's the point of keeping you around?"

"I thought…sir…that you kept me around out of a kind of affection and loyalty," retorted Alfred. "I served your father, after all…"

"And like I said to the board today, time we all got over that whole dead parents thing, right, Jeeves?" chuckled Joker. "They ain't getting any deader, and we can't help them wherever they are now! And it's so dreary and depressing, all this constant memorializing and remembering. There's a giant portrait of them in the study so they're even watching me when I'm working! Just creepy, if you ask me! We should get rid of that, huh?"

"Sir…there is nothing more sacred to you than your parents memory," said Alfred. "Can't you tell me what's wrong? Why are you behaving as if you don't care?"

"Cause I don't," said Joker, shrugging. "Who really cares about a couple of dead rich people? I mean, I guess it was pretty traumatizing for me at the time, but what can I do about it now? Dress up in a bat costume and fight crime?" he chuckled. "I ain't that crazy!"

Alfred opened his mouth to respond and then thought better of it. Instead he forced a smile and said, "Very good, sir – I'll just bring the cars round."

Joker headed back to the pool, whistling. Alfred watched him go, and then headed into the library, pressing the button on the grandfather clock which swung wide, revealing the entrance to the Batcave.

He reached the bottom of the stairs to see Dick seated in front of the Batcomputer, scanning through some files. "Have you found anything, Master Dick?" asked Alfred.

"No," sighed Dick, turning around. "Unfortunately. No unusual activity last night that I can see, no strange news events that could explain his condition…I don't know what could possibly be wrong with him."

"That man is not the master," said Alfred, firmly. "I suspected he was not this morning, but I am positive now. He actually suggested removing the portrait of his parents from the study because he claims not to care about them anymore. Master Bruce would never have stopped honoring their memory. He may look very much like him, but he is not Master Bruce."

"Clayface is locked up in Arkham," sighed Dick. "That was my other idea."

"Arkham," murmured Alfred. "Yes…Master Dick, do you know who Master Bruce reminds me of now, with his wild ideas and his refusal to take anything seriously?"

"Who?" asked Dick.

"The Joker," replied Alfred.

"The Joker?" repeated Dick. Then he nodded slowly. "The laughter and everything this morning…do you think the Joker had something on him last night that infected Bruce when he hit him? Made him control his mind or something?"

"Who knows?" said Alfred. "Probably not Master Bruce, so I doubt it would do any good to confront and question him. But he's too dangerous in this state to remain at liberty. He just drove the car into the pool."

Dick sighed, standing up. "You know restraining him won't be easy. But maybe it's for the best that he's locked up temporarily, just until we can figure out what's wrong with him and find a cure. If we work together, we should be able to take him."

"I'll follow your lead, Master Dick," said Alfred, nodding.

They headed back up the stairs, Alfred closing the grandfather clock behind him.

"What's behind the clock?" asked a familiar voice suddenly, and they both turned in dread to see the Joker standing in the doorway.

"Nothing…Master Bruce," stammered Alfred.

"Don't tell me nothing – I just saw you come outta it," retorted Joker.

"It's a secret passageway to the…conservatory," invented Dick. "Just quicker to travel through the house using them sometimes, rather than going all the way around."

"What were you doing in the conservatory when I asked you to go to the garage and bring me the cars?" demanded Joker, glaring at Alfred.

"Fetching Master Dick…I thought it would be quicker if we both brought the cars round," said Alfred.

"Probably," agreed Joker, nodding. "You two go do that – I wanna check out this secret passageway. How do you open it?" he asked, shoving Alfred out of the way and examining the clock.

"Actually, you really shouldn't go down there, Master Bruce," said Alfred. "We've been having a problem with rats, and they might be carrying diseases…"

"So?" asked Joker. "I got a young, strong, healthy body, so probably a pretty good immune system. I sure ain't gonna miss the chance to go through a secret passage just because I might get sick!" he chuckled. "What kinda idiot would worry more about his health than having fun?"

Alfred and Dick shared a look, and Dick nodded. It was now or never.

He suddenly seized Joker around the neck, dragging him away from the clock and attempting to subdue him on the ground. Unfortunately, Joker's reflexes were good, and the instant he felt something around his neck, he whirled around to slam Dick against the clock. Dick let go, gasping in pain, and Joker kicked him in the chest, sending him flying into the bookcase. "Hey, what gives, kid?!" he demanded, standing over him as Dick struggled to stand up.

"Forgive me, Master Bruce, but it's for your own good," whispered Alfred, picking up a vase from a bookcase and creeping up behind Joker. He raised it over his head and prepared to bring it down when Joker kicked backwards, tripping up Alfred so that he fell onto Dick and smashed the vase. While they were both temporarily winded, Joker slammed his arm behind the bookcase and pushed, sending it crashing down to the ground and trapping Alfred and Dick under it.

"Seriously, what the hell?!" demanded Joker.

"Bruce, you're not well!" shouted Dick. "You need to be locked up for now, for your own sake!"

"I'm in perfect health!" snapped Joker. "You two, on the other hand, won't be when I'm done with you," he growled, reaching for one of the ornamental swords over the fireplace. "Nobody attacks playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne! And this betrayal of my own staff and adopted family cuts deep! I'm gonna show you just how deep," he chuckled. "You're really gonna feel my pain!"

He raised the sword, and then brought the blade down…cutting into the grandfather clock. "Right after I get through to this secret passage!" he giggled, hacking away at the clock. Alfred and Dick could only watch helplessly in mute horror as each chop brought the Joker closer to discovering Bruce's secret.


	9. Chapter 9

"Ugh, what do you flush down your drains?" demanded Harley, as she climbed out of the drainpipe near Wayne Manor, dusting herself off. "I'm gonna have to wash my clothes about twenty times when I get home, and I bet the smell still won't come out! And Mr. J's gonna be pissed you got crap on his suit!"

"Then maybe he should have come with us at Wayne Tower," snapped Bruce. "Rather than being difficult and making us track him through the sewers!"

"Well, it'll amuse him when I tell him, so that'll be worth it, I guess," sighed Harley, glancing up at the house. "So how do we get in?"

"At this point, I'm fine with just breaking one of my own windows and climbing in," sighed Bruce. "It'll trigger an alarm, but we should have enough time before the police come to subdue Joker. And the cost of a new window is worth ending this ordeal quicker."

"You're the boss," said Harley, shrugging, as they headed around the back of the manor. She raised her hammer to smash in one of the windows, and then did a double take at the pool.

"Why is there a car in your pool?" she asked.

"Why is there a what?" demanded Bruce, glancing into the water. He growled. "That was a brand new sportscar from Italy, and I'm gonna take the cost of it outta his hide!"

"You can try, Brucie," laughed Harley. "But I'd leave Mr. J to me. He's only gonna kick your ass."

She smashed her hammer through the window and cleared away the broken glass. They both climbed in to the noise of an alarm, but then noticed a different noise coming from the library.

Bruce's heart leapt into his throat as they entered the room and saw the scene before them – Alfred and Dick trapped under a bookcase and the Joker in his body hacking his way through the grandfather clock that led to the Batcave.

"Joker, stop it right now!" he roared.

"Yeah, who's gonna make me, pretty boy?" demanded Joker, rounding on Bruce. "You?"

"No," snapped Harley. "Me!"

Joker laughed. "Yeah, that's rich, kid! I'd like to see you try stopping me! C'mon, gimme your best shot!"

"You really don't want me to do that, Mr. J," murmured Harley.

"Yeah, I do!" retorted Joker. "I ain't scared! C'mon, hit me with it!" he said, holding open his arms.

Harley shrugged. "All right, you asked for it. But this ain't gonna be pleasant for either of us, Mr J," she sighed, raising her hammer again.

She dropped her hammer suddenly, grabbing Bruce in Joker's body, seizing his face, and kissing him passionately. Bruce was too stunned and horrified to respond for a moment, but then he glanced at his own body, and saw the sudden, angry look of jealousy flashing into his eyes. And then he realized Harley's plan, and decided to play along, however much he didn't want to. He slid his hands onto Harley's body, feeling her as he returned the kiss.

"Mmm, Bruce, you're such a good kisser," purred Harley. "Much better than puddin' ever was. I'm glad his exceptional body finally belongs to a man who appreciates me, and shows it. Why don't we leave Mr. J here with his silly game and head back to the lair? I can show you some toys…"

"Hey, get my filthy hands offa her, Brucie!" snapped Joker, the fury in his eyes growing as he raised the sword. "She ain't your property!"

"Actually, I am," murmured Harley, smiling at him. "I belong to Mr. J. And he sure looks like Mr. J to me, just with, y'know, a personality improvement."

"Improvement?!" roared Joker. "That idiotic playboy who's never had to work a day in his life?! You call that an improvement on my genius?!"

"Well, he's a lot kinder to me," said Harley, shrugging. "Sweet, affectionate – I can see why all the women like him."

" _You_ don't like sweetness and affection!" roared Joker. "And you don't deserve them!"

"Apparently I do," replied Harley. "Apparently the universe decided that I deserved a nice, loving, affectionate guy in my puddin's body, and provided that for me. You're right, Mr. J, it is kinda a good gag, huh? After all these years of sweet, selfless loyalty, I finally get a guy who appreciates me, in the body of the guy I've always wanted."

"That's not a gag!" shouted Joker. "It's not funny! And stop touching him…me…whatever! It just looks wrong!"

"How can it look wrong?" asked Harley, innocently. "The Joker made Harley Quinn in his image. We're meant to be, made for each other, and we're finally being a loving, affectionate couple, just like we always should have been. I think it looks perfect," she sighed, kissing Bruce again. "It certainly feels perfect."

"I said stop touching her!" shouted Joker at Bruce. "Or this sword goes in your head!"

"You ain't gonna harm your own body!" snapped Harley. "Don't think for one second that I believe you'll do that! You've always loved yourself much more than you ever loved me, and you ain't gonna harm yourself just because you're jealous of me finally getting the affection I deserve from someone!"

Joker was livid. "You said you hated him," he hissed. "You said he was worse than the Bat…"

"Well, we've really grown on each other during the journey here," said Harley, shrugging. "And frankly, I was a little shocked about suddenly having a new man in your body, but now I see it as a good thing, especially in light of what happened this morning."

"What happened this morning?" growled Joker.

She shrugged again. "Well, I thought he was my boyfriend, so I woke him up naked and wanting sex, y'know, since you've been ignoring me for weeks. But Brucie was very happy to oblige…"

Joker roared, launching himself at Bruce, who jumped out of the way, sending Joker flying headlong into the wall. While he was temporarily winded, Harley picked up her hammer and struck him a hard blow across the back of the skull which sent him to the ground, unconscious.

"Well done, Harley," sighed Bruce in relief. "You're a lot smarter than I give you credit for."

"You and everybody else," retorted Harley, who was back in her usual, irritated mood at Bruce. "Mr. J thinks I'm so dumb that I actually want a nice guy in his body. He just doesn't understand that I love him for more than his physical charms," she sighed, kneeling down beside him and stroking his hair tenderly as she fitted handcuffs around his wrists.

"Thank goodness," said Bruce, as he headed over to lift the bookcase off Alfred and Dick.

"Bruce?" said Dick, looking up at the Joker's face in apprehension. "What the hell is going on?"

"Joker and me have had our bodies switched," said Bruce.

"How?" asked Dick.

"It's complicated," retorted Bruce.

"We suspected something of the kind, sir – you were most definitely not yourself," said Alfred, as Bruce helped him to his feet.

"What was Joker doing to the clock?" asked Bruce, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

"He wanted to see the secret passage to the conservatory, sir," replied Alfred, calmly. "We did try to warn him about the rats, but he wouldn't listen."

Bruce suppressed a sigh of relief – the Joker hadn't found out about Batman. It had been a close run thing, but his secret was still safe.

"We should go," he said, turning to Harley. "Before the police arrive. I don't want to finish today by getting arrested."

"What should we tell the police, sir?" asked Alfred.

"Say it was an accident," said Bruce. "You knocked something through the window by mistake…and keep the door to this room shut. It would be hard to explain why anyone would try to hack a clock to pieces."

He turned back to Harley. "I'll carry me," he said, hoisting his own body over his shoulders.

"Fine by me," said Harley. "You could stand to lose a little weight you know, Brucie, once you're back in your own body. Just a friendly suggestion."

Bruce sighed as he followed her out of the room. At least their irritation with each other was mutual. Joker had nothing to worry about.


	10. Chapter 10

"Brought you some tea, Jervis – how's it coming?" asked Harley as she entered Tetch's study carrying a tray.

"Thank you very much, my dear – please put it across the room from me," said Tetch, not looking up from his microscope. "I don't want another accident like last time. And I'm hoping to have things fixed by midnight," he said, glancing at the clock. "If all goes to plan, of course."

"Good, 'cause I'm really sick of Brucie," sighed Harley. "I mean, puddin' has his bad moods, but there hasn't been a smile on his face all day, and it's so wrong not seeing a smile on Mr. J's face. What does a playboy billionaire have to be unhappy about anyway?"

"At this point in time, probably the fact that he's trapped in the Joker's body," said Tetch.

"Could be worse," said Harley, shrugging. "Anyway, you're gonna fix it – I know you will."

"I thank you for your confidence in me, my dear, but perhaps Mr. Wayne is possessed of no such confidence," replied Tetch. "He did fire me from his employ, after all."

"Yeah, I would've sued him if I were you," said Harley, nodding. "You can't fire a guy just because the law suddenly decides he's sick in the head. We got laws to prevent that. Can't follow the law by breaking another law – that don't make any sense."

"I really don't think he had much of a choice after the attempted kidnapping," replied Tetch. "It would have reflected badly on Wayne Enterprises. I actually don't bear him a grudge for it – in fact, I'm very grateful to him for introducing me to my Alice by employing both of us. But then it would have been impossible not to hire the dear, sweet child after having met her. She eases effortless kindness and charm from every part of her being…"

"You're such a cutie, Jervis," said Harley, smiling at him. "But try not to distract yourself by thinking about her right now and find a way to fix this mess instead, huh?"

"Yes, quite right, Harley," agreed Tetch.

"Good luck," she said, kissing his cheek and then heading back out into the living room. Bruce sat in Joker's body, glaring down at a book while the Joker in Bruce's body was handcuffed to the table, glaring across at his own body. His scowl transferred to Harley as she re-entered the room.

"Aw, don't look at me like that, Mr. J – you know we didn't really have sex!" she snapped. "I was just saying and doing all that to rile you, so you'd attack us and we could knock you out and take you here."

"I don't believe you," growled Joker.

Harley sighed. "Bruce, what kinda noises do I make in bed?" she asked, turning to him.

"I don't know," retorted Bruce.

"What's my favorite sex position?"

"I don't know!" snapped Bruce.

"What do I have carved over my left breast?"

"I don't know!" shouted Bruce.

"Now either he's blind as Batsy, or we didn't have sex!" snapped Harley.

"Or he's lying," retorted Joker. "Because he's hoping that if he does, I won't ritually disembowel him when I get my body back. But he's wrong."

Harley sighed. "Fine, I'll go get the tape," she muttered.

"Tape?" repeated Bruce.

"Mr. J's kinda been into filming our playtime lately, for our own private use," said Harley. "I started the camera when I woke up and went to get the whoopie cushion. He can watch it and see nothing funny went on. Back in a second," she said, heading out of the apartment.

Bruce glared at Joker. "What?" he demanded. "You've never made a sex tape? I find that hard to believe – all celebrities have, and they always get leaked! You'd think you people would learn!"

"You're a sick and disturbed individual," muttered Bruce, glancing back down at the book.

"And so were you today!" chuckled Joker. "By the way, you might want to call Selina Kyle once you get your body back – she sounded pretty steamed after the phone call earlier."

"I don't even want to know what you said to her, do I?" asked Bruce.

Joker shrugged. "She wanted some dirty talk, so I obliged."

"Oh God," muttered Bruce. "And you didn't hurt Adrienne this morning, did you?" he demanded.

"Nope, didn't even have sex with your girl when I woke up naked next to her," snapped Joker. "I guess we know who the really sick and disturbed individual is here, huh?"

Bruce ignored him. "But I may have told her not to call me again," said Joker, slowly. "I mean, she wasn't very hot, Brucie, you gotta admit – killing her probably would have been doing you a favor! One less unattractive dame bothering you!"

"I suppose I should be grateful you decided that wouldn't be funny, then," snapped Bruce. "Just what exactly did you do today that I'm going to have to fix? I know my secretary's launching some sort of sexual harassment lawsuit…"

"You should fire her," said Joker, nodding. "Got all uppity just because I called her sweetheart. She needs to know her place, and the place for the secretary of a playboy billionaire is on his desk, or under it, not on her high horse…"

"Oh God, you didn't try to have sex with her, did you?" demanded Bruce.

"No, I told you, I'm less of a disgusting individual than you!" retorted Joker. "I don't spend my days jumping random women I encounter! I make the most of my time by making executive decisions and negotiating business deals!"

"Luthor…what did you tell Luthor?" demanded Bruce. "About the nuclear weapons?"

"Told him I was in," said Joker, nodding. "And then I signed the contract Bugs Bunny. Joke's on him!" he chuckled.

"Well, that's a relief," sighed Bruce. "Sounds like you didn't screw up my life too terribly today."

Joker giggled. "Well, I certainly did my best! As did you, apparently, by sleeping with my girlfriend," he snapped, his face falling in irritation.

"For the last time, Harley and me did not have sex!" shouted Bruce. "I saw her naked, but that was it!"

Crane entered the room. "Would anyone like tea? I can probably guess the answer but just thought I'd offer while the water is hot."

"Actually, I'll have a cup," said Bruce, putting down the book. "Might help with the stress."

"Of course, Mr. Wayne," said Crane, pouring a cup for him. He handed it to him, and then knocked it over, causing the hot tea to spill onto Bruce's lap.

"I'm so terribly sorry, Mr. Wayne," he said, insincerely, as Bruce roared in pain.

"Hey, don't damage the goods, Craney!" snapped Joker. "I'll need 'em when I get my body back!"

"It was a complete accident, I assure you," said Crane.

"What, like tripping me earlier?" demanded Bruce.

"I've been most clumsy today – you must forgive me my temporary dyspraxia," said Crane, completely deadpan. "It's not something I can control."

"Got the tape," said Harley, re-entering the room carrying a videotape. "You got a player around here somewhere, Johnny? I need to show Mr. J that nothing funny went on between me and Brucie this morning. I mean, I am naked in it and all, but that's because I thought he was Mr. J, but now he can see how effectively he stopped me from bothering him and how nothing actually happened."

"Tape…of you…naked…yes, yes, I'm sure we have something to play that," stammered Crane, taking it from her and heading over to the TV.

"Thanks. And if you two could beat it – I kinda wanna see it alone with Mr. J," said Harley. "It's still our private tape, y'know."

"Yes, of course, my dear," said Crane. "Come along, Mr. Wayne."

"It's not like I haven't already seen it…" began Bruce.

"And that doesn't mean you get to treat yourself to a second glance, does it?" snapped Crane. "Now come along, Mr. Wayne! Honestly, just because the women you're used to dealing with have no shame it does not mean the same is true for Harley! She's the most honorable, virtuous, sacred, beautiful woman and she deserves respect!"

"You didn't see her climbing all over me this morning…ow!" shouted Bruce, as Crane slammed the door on his hand on the way out.

"I said don't damage the goods!" shouted Joker after them. He turned his attention to the tape, his glare gradually softening. "Gee, that was kinda a Batman move," he commented, as Bruce shot up and subdued Harley.

"Yeah, I thought so too," agreed Harley. "So do I get an apology or not?" she demanded, turning the tape off.

"You're the one who lied – you should be apologizing to me!" he snapped.

"Mr. J, how else was I gonna get you to come home?" she demanded. "You'd never leave your joke willingly!"

"No," agreed Joker. "It was too good a gag to stop before I'd delivered the punchline."

"Which was?" asked Harley.

"I'm getting Wayne Enterprises to build a giant, solid gold Joker statue," he said.

"Yeah, that is a fun gag," agreed Harley. "But not worth all the crap I've been through today with Bruce. I don't want him in your body for a moment longer than necessary, even for a joke like that. Anyway, if you just kept me satisfied regularly, you wouldn't have to worry irrationally about me having sex with other guys when they steal your body! It's a good lesson for you!"

"It ain't an irrational worry!" snapped Joker.

"Of course it is!" she snapped. "You think I'm crazy? Why would I ever want anyone else in your body?! I love you, Mr. J! All of you! Not just physically, but everything about you! Just like how I hope you love me! I mean, if you woke up to find Selina Kyle in my body, you wouldn't just shrug and accept it, would you?"

Joker said nothing. "Mr. J?" prompted Harley.

"Hang on, I'm just fantasizing about that," murmured Joker.

"Mr. J!" shouted Harley, slapping him.

"Hey, it was just a joke!" he snapped. "And to be honest, I think I'd rather have you in Selina's body – she's got more in the boob department…"

"That's it – I'm leaving, you jerk," snapped Harley, standing up. "Stay in Bruce's body forever, for all I care, you ungrateful creep!"

"Harley, wait," he said, grabbing her arm. "It's just a joke!"

"I can't tell when you're joking in that body," snapped Harley. "Brucie ain't got a face for comedy – you can't tell if he's serious or not."

"You say you love me for me, and then you don't even know me," retorted Joker. "I'm never serious, whether I'm in my body or not! You think _I'm_ crazy? Selina ain't my type of gal – she don't find violence a turn on. At least, not our kinda violence. And of course I wouldn't want you in her body. You know me – Daddy likes his blondes," he murmured, stroking her hair back.

"She could dye her hair," retorted Harley. "I do."

"He likes his big, blue-eyed baby too," he murmured. "And her pretty little gymnast figure. And her sweet, little, fun-size boobs, and her fantastic ass…"

"This would be real hot, Mr. J, but you're still in Bruce's body," retorted Harley. "So that's kinda a mood killer."

"Yeah," sighed Joker. "God knows why this guy's so popular with the ladies. He's smaller than me, did you know that?"

"Well, it would be hard to be bigger than you, Mr. J," giggled Harley.

Joker giggled too. "Any idea how Tetchy's coming on fixing this?" he asked. "Cause I kinda really want my body back now, to give my Harley girl a nice, hard revving."

"I'll go see," said Harley, standing up and heading into Tetch's study. "How's it going, Jervis?"

"If you could have Mr. Wayne and the Joker assemble in this room now, please, I would be most grateful," said Tetch. "I would like to observe the process of the transference of consciousness, which I suspect is only a few minutes away, judging by the reaction of the matter."

"Great," said Harley. "I'll go get 'em."

She, Joker, Bruce, and Crane all joined Tetch in his study. "Stand over there, please," said Tetch, gesturing to Bruce and Joker as he took out a notebook. "And please inform me of your feelings during the process, for posterity. This is, as far as I know, an unprecedented occurrence, and the scientific community will thank you for your cooperation…"

"The scientific community can bite me," interrupted Joker. "I ain't helping a buncha nerds just because another nerd made a mistake and got my body switched with somebody else!"

"Anybody who knows anything about science knows that it is through mistakes that progress so often occurs," retorted Tetch.

"Aw, you shouldn't call yourself and Craney mistakes!" chuckled Joker. "I'm sure your parents really wanted you both!"

Tetch sighed, glancing at the matter, which was wildly fluctuating. "Transference in three…two…one…" he said.

The whole room vibrated, there was a loud popping sound…and then everything was still as the clock chimed midnight.

"How are we feeling, Joker? Mr. Wayne?" asked Tetch.

"Fine," they both said at the same time, and then looked at each other.

"Are you back being you?" asked Joker of Bruce.

He nodded, feeling relief wash over him as he felt his usual body around him once more.

"Which must mean I'm back being me!" chuckled Joker, beaming as he moved his arms. He suddenly reached down and glanced into his pants. "Yep, I am!" he giggled. "Gosh, I missed the Big J!"

"So did I, puddin'," purred Harley, cuddling against him. "But now that you're back to being you, we can have all kindsa fun together!"

Joker chuckled, lifting her up in his arms. "Well, see you nerds later!" he said. "I got a Harley to ride!"

"But Joker, you haven't told me how the process felt, and I wanted to get a blood sample…" began Tetch, but they had already left the apartment, slamming the door shut behind them.

Tetch sighed. "Mr. Wayne, would you be willing to tell me how the process felt, and allow me to get a blood sample?"

"It didn't feel like anything," retorted Bruce. "No effect I can describe anyway. And I'd rather you didn't take a blood sample. It's one of those incidents I'd prefer to forget ever happened – I suggest you do the same."

He didn't explain that this was because he didn't want Tetch making the connection between Bruce Wayne's blood and Batman's blood, should the opportunity ever arise to compare them. But he didn't want to take any chances.

He headed for the door to the apartment, and then paused. "Oh, look, Joker and Harley forgot their tape of Harley naked," he said, casually, taking it out of the player and looking at Crane. Then he snapped it in multiple places, throwing the broken pieces on the ground. "Good evening to you both," he said, striding out the front door.

"I don't like him," growled Crane.

"Well, they were both tremendously unhelpful," sighed Tetch, putting away the notebook. "Honestly, you'd think when people are on the forefront of scientific discovery that they would be a little excited about it, and willing to share their good fortune."

"I'm not sure either of them would have described what happened today as good fortune," said Crane.

"It's an exciting discovery, you must admit," said Tetch. "The transference of human consciousness between bodies – it likely holds the secret to immortality."

"If one can figure out how to harness it, of course," said Crane.

"Well, quite," agreed Tetch. "And they wouldn't even help me do that. Some people are so selfish, Jonathan," he sighed, heading back to his study.

"Yes, they are," muttered Crane, grabbing a dustpan and broom to clean up the broken pieces of the tape and mentally making a note to have Wayne Enterprises as the target of his next fear gas attack.


	11. Chapter 11

The next day, Bruce returned to work at Wayne Enterprises with a bouquet of flowers for his secretary. After negotiating a five percent pay rise with her, she finally decided to drop the lawsuit against him. Bruce spent most of the rest of the day on the phone, first to Lex Luthor who had called him in a rage. Bruce calmly explained that he had been very sick yesterday, and the medication the doctor had given him had had unpredictable side effects, but that he was still disinclined to work with LexCorp in order to build nuclear weapons. Luthor would have argued the point, but after yesterday's meeting, he had decided to drop his professional dealings with Wayne Enterprises for a little while. Bruce knew too much about his extracurricular activities, after all, and he'd rather build nuclear weapons with someone who didn't know he was the head of a secret society of supervillains – it would be easier to gain their trust.

Bruce then called Selina, who ignored his calls at first, but finally picked up after Bruce left a message on her answering machine explaining about the medication. He then arranged a date with her for Saturday night, promising that he would never again take said medication, and promising to buy her a store full of jewelry as an apology.

He had just hung up the phone and begun to relax, feeling grateful that things were back to normal, when a knock came on his office door. "Come in," said Bruce.

"Mr. Wayne, we thought you'd like to know that we've ordered the gold, and the architect is on his way to discuss designs," said Lucius Fox, entering the room with a folder. "He's sent over some preliminary sketches…"

"Sketches?" repeated Bruce, puzzled. "For what?"

"For the statue, sir," replied Lucius. "That you ordered yesterday."

"What statue?" demanded Bruce, grabbing the folder from Lucius. His face fell in horror as he opened it to reveal pictures of the Joker.

"There are so many executive decisions to be made for it, sir – do you want him with his cane, wearing his hat, standing up or sitting down, or maybe even in his car…"

"Why would you ever build a statue to the Joker?!" roared Bruce, glaring up at him in fury.

"Because…you ordered us to, sir," said Lucius, slowly. "You were most insistent, despite our objections…"

"If I ever give an order like that again, I want you to call the police on me and have me shipped off to Arkham!" snapped Bruce. "I obviously wasn't in my right mind at the time, and I'm honestly concerned that my board would agree to something that's so clearly insane! Don't you have a mind of your own?!"

"Yes, sir, but the board was more concerned with placating you and keeping their jobs, however temporarily we'd have them after Wayne Enterprises endorses the Joker," retorted Lucius.

Bruce growled. "I took some…bad medication yesterday which my doctor gave me by mistake. I was not in control of anything I said and did, and everything I said and did should be ignored. Forget it ever happened, if possible. It's not ever going to happen again."

"I'm very relieved to hear it, Mr. Wayne," said Lucius. "And the board will be too."

"I'll meet with them now, so we can set out the new investment strategies," said Bruce, standing up. "And it's not going to be for ridiculous statues. The first order of business will be to send back the gold, and dismiss the architect."

"Excellent, Mr. Wayne," said Lucius. "It's good to have you back to your old self, sir."

"Yes," muttered Bruce under his breath. "I honestly wish I'd never left."

 **The End**


End file.
